


20/04 Monday 3. Thief

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: #SpnStayAtHome [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, M/M, POV Castiel, Prompt Fill, SPNStayAtHome, Serial Killer Castiel (Supernatural), Serial Killer Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Castiel knows just what to get Dean Winchester. He just has to steal it from a victim first.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: #SpnStayAtHome [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704448
Kudos: 45





	20/04 Monday 3. Thief

**Author's Note:**

> My third fic for #SpnStayAtHome! Hopefully I won't fall behind anymore. I had too much fun with this.

“No! Please, you don’t have to do this!”

Castiel rolled his eyes as his latest victim pleaded. Cas leaned against a chest in the storage facility basement he was using, crossing his arms, even putting one ankle over the other. He licked his bottom lip.

“You done yet?” Castiel asked, as the man sat there, tied to the chair, blubbering.

His name was Marvin Atkins. He was thirty-seven, he had a membership at a gym that he used quite frequently, his favorite topping on pizza was broccoli, and he worked for a business firm. He also had yet another handy fact about him that had made Castiel so interested in him in the first place — he was six foot three, and had green eyes. Men like that were hard to come by. He only saw a man more beautiful than that every once in awhile, when they’d meet up to talk about their kills.

He felt his dress pants start growing tight as he thought of Dean Winchester.

They weren’t exactly boyfriends, but they weren’t enemies. Dean’s type was guys who fit Castiel’s profile; Castiel’s, Dean’s. It had only been a matter of time before they’d find each other. At this point Cas couldn’t even remember who had tried to kill who first. But now they were used to the whole bondage and roughing each other up thing. They just used it to get pleasure out of each other.

But even then, Castiel was sure he had a soft spot for Dean Winchester somewhere inside him. He’d never admit it, but if he didn’t, why would he even be doing what he was now?

Castiel shook his head, tisk-ing. “Marvin, Marvin, Marvin… This isn’t about you,” Castiel said. He got off the chest, and came forward. Already with one hand in his pocket, he was fingering the rubber ball and duct tape that he had. “This is about something so much bigger.”

Marvin’s wild eyes grew even more panicked, and white was practically all Castiel could see. “What? Like the mafia?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Hmm… Close. Valentine’s Day.”

Marvin just stared at him in confusion, seemingly forgetting how panicked he was. That was, until Castiel approached, getting in his personal space. His victim was shaking, sweating. Tears built up in his eyes.

Castiel fought with him to get the rubber ball in his mouth, clamped around his teeth, and then he kept it there with duct tape going around his head. A make-shift ball gag. Cas had learned that particular trick from the last time Dean had taken him captive.

Cas took out a silver-colored blade, the metal seeming to reflect back pure light from the old swinging bulb up above and the spotlight he’d placed on his victim.

Castiel rubbed the sharp edge against the man’s cheeks, slicing, spilling blood.

His victim cried, struggling.

A powerful rush of sensation filled his gut. It was like getting punched, while getting infused with adrenaline and pleasure all at once. Castiel’s cock twitched in his pants.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he explained. “I’m going to carve you up, nice and pretty, and then…” He dragged the blade down to Marvin’s chest, imagining the fluttering heart in his breast. “Then, I’m going to take this. Your heart. I know someone who’d want it.”

Castiel started cutting, and he reveled in Marvin’s muffled screams.

Castiel didn’t know where Dean lived, but he knew where he was staying for now. He was in a motel on the outskirts of town, and the motel provided hot tubs, so he could imagine Dean was living it up. They were also a good place to keep bodies if you didn’t want to make too much of a mess.

When Castiel knocked on the door he knew was his, it opened just a crack. He could see one of Dean’s beautiful eyes peer out. Blood dripped behind Castiel’s back from what he held in his hand. He should probably keep it out of the light, but no one was around anyway. Besides, the blood on his clothes would be what they noticed first, not that he was holding something behind his back.

“Talk quickly,” Dean snarled out, the tense way his lips shaped the words showing those lovely white teeth of his. Cas had a twinge of sensation in between his legs, imagining those teeth against his skin. He worked his own tongue around his mouth, realizing he wanted to bite Dean. “I have a gun to the door,” Dean went on. “Right next to your head. Either we can make this ugly, or really ugly.”

“Dean, I’m just here to say Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Dean frowned, a picture of total confusion.

“What?”

Castiel pressed against the door to come in, and then tossed Dean what he’d been holding. It slipped from Dean’s hand, but he caught it again before it hit the floor. This made him have to drop his gun though, and when he came back up, Castiel was holding it under his chin.

Dean held the bleeding heart up, studying it, even with metal glinting against his flesh.

“Valentine’s Day, huh, Castiel?” Dean asked. “Who’d you get this from?”

“I stole it,” Cas responded, drawing in close, breathing heavy now that he was near Dean.

“I didn’t know you were a thief.”

Castiel lowered the gun, but brought it down, pressing it against Dean’s pelvis. He rutted against it.

“Neither did I. But I can assure you, the man who had it, won’t be needing it anymore.”

Dean cracked a smile, and then pulled Castiel in close, even as the barrel of the gun now threatened to go into his jeans.

“Well, I’m all yours. Who’s turn is it to play victim this time?”

Castiel kissed Dean, bit his bottom lip, and pulled, making sure it bled. He groaned as he tasted it.

“I do believe it’s yours,” Castiel told him.

“Well, fuck me.”


End file.
